The New Trilogy: The Lord of The Rings
by Mina White
Summary: A bunch of fans from our world are supposed to learn a lesson in life by enduring life in Middl Earth, but instead they freakishly complicate the trilogy... meet many bizarre characters, and watch poor Legolas and Aragorn suffer fangirls.
1. The Fellowship Of The Ring: Episode One

"The New Trilogy"

The Lord of the Rings  
Episode One

**Section One: Sent To Their Deaths (or so it is secretly hoped)  
**

The room was dimly lit, and a commanding figure stood before a room of seated young adults in school desks, staring at them in a condescending manner that aggravated even the best of the people in the room. He adjusted his glasses and sighed at the pathetic sight before him.

"You all disgust me!" he proclaimed boldly. "The lot of you are hereby punished for your incompetence at living in the real word. Starting now you will be forced to endure Middle Earth in a scenario different than the trilogies… and believe me, you shall live in the dangerous times of the Wars of the Ring. _You shall witness the brutality of the trilogy of the Lord of The Rings!_" he announced, opening his arm to dramatize the significance of the event. "There you shall die, unless you learn to get along in the world," he said with a hint of pleasure in his voice, "and if you can survive in a fantasy reality, then you shall be permitted to return to _actual_ reality. Otherwise, if you choose to remain _there_, it is no great loss."

"Oh, boo you!" a fan girl in the back said. "Who asked you, anyways? This is stupid." He paced the room with the same, serious expression on his face, then suddenly he raised his eyebrows and turned to his desk.

"Do you know how many times your parents pleaded for my help?"

"I bet they don't know you intended to kill us," a girl called Rachael said.

"Oh, right! Attendance," he said. The class groaned. Lindsay took a look at the three students who stood up for themselves and died on their way to the door. This commanding figure before them seemed to be tough… and out of his mind. "Alright," he muttered, he did a head count and revised the names on the list. Finally, he neared the end when something caught his eye. "…Lindsay, Kim, Adam, Braden…" he looked up from his list. "You're the poor bastard that can't age!"

"I'm 108 years old," he replied bitterly. There seemed to be an undertone of self-hatred.

"That's amazing! And where the hell did you go to have a fire resistance of 3000? Or… or was that just a rumor?"

"Dunno, I just know that fire doesn't burn me."

"Astounding! Is it true that you _volunteered?_" Braden moaned, utterly bored, and raised his head from his arm, on the desk.

"Yeah, I want to die in Middle Earth."

"Ah, I see. Sick of living already."

"Yeah…" the victims looked to him, raising eyebrows and giving him looks.

"Sir, have mercy," Katelyn protested. The tall, broad man stood straight, watching her in utter surprise. Laughter suddenly bellowed out, and he caught himself within a minute.

"_Mercy!_ Your incompetence got many people out of work," he declined. "So, what happens when you are there is what will take place _instead_ of the story, so don't be confused if no one knows what you're talking about, unless some of their memories come back."

"Memories? Sir, what did you _do_ to them?"

"Anyways," he stammered, "prepare yourselves for a lesson you shall never forget!" he said. The class looked to him with pleading eyes, but only a flame glimmered back at them from behind his eyes, telling them of his passion and hatred for them.

**Section Two: The Adventure Baggins  
**

When they appeared inexplicably to the world of Arda, they found themselves separated from their rather large group. Two of them, Mark and Braden, started walking together until they met up with three more of their kind. There was Alex, Howie and Vince, all of irrelevant character. Mark suggested that they ask the farmer if they could spend the night, but the others were too wild and idiotic to listen to reason. Vince and Alex started picking at the mushrooms and scarfing them down. After about twenty minutes, Howie came crashing through with a bunch of corn in each arm.

"Run like motherfuckers, gentlemen!" he said as he rushed by. Braden was following behind hastily, then Mark followed.

"You idiot, Howie, I'm going to kill you!"

"What do you think is going on?" Alex asked Vince in a distant tone. "Dude, I feel funny."

"I don't know, let's get out of here, man." Alex looked to Vince like he was utterly ingenious.

They scurried off the farm as they heard the farmer calling after them, accusing them of stealing. They looked to each other and ran faster, and looking behind them, they didn't see the three others who've stopped dead in their tracks at a small cliff. They smashed right into them, and they all tumbles to the ground and onto the road.

"I think I've broken something…" Howie managed, as he found himself on top of the four others. Howie sat up and got off of the others, and Mark looked him over.

"Shit! Dude! You lost your arm!" Howie looked down where his right arm would have been.

"Aaaugh!"

"Auuugh!" Mark screamed back.

"Wait, oh, this arm was always like that."

"No it wasn't, I just saw you carrying like two armfuls of corn."

"Dude, no you didn't."

"Dude, yes I did!"

"No, I didn't- look, just shut up, you're annoying."

"_You're_ annoying."

"You wanna start something, you little prick, Mark?"

"Whoaaah," both Alex and Vince said, distracting the group from the argument. They seemed to be looking down the path. A short creature named Frodo walked into their view, who was looking down the path in the other direction. Behind Frodo, three others were concerning themselves with mushrooms on the road.

"I think we should get off the road," Frodo said. Alex and Vince looked at him, tilting their heads. Suddenly, it seemed as though Frodo was getting closer and the path was shrinking behind him, moving indescribably. A dark section of the path in the distance seemed to be coming closer towards them as the length of the normal path became minimal. It was creepy, but the boys seemed to enjoy it.

Vince looked to Alex, who was still dazed, looking at Frodo and beyond.

"Dude, these mushrooms are great!"

"Get off the road!" Frodo called, panicked. Everyone scurried off the road and hid in a grove of tree roots and earth, under a tree. The horse slowed and paused by the tree, and the group shuddered as they felt its evil aura… and what felt more evil yet, was the putrid aura surrounding the Nazgûl! Frodo shrugged off a cold shiver before the bugs, terrified, started panicking from beneath the earth and crawling all over the place, unsure of what to do. As everyone scurried from them, Pippin's eyes narrowed on them and a look of temptation washed over his face. Licking his lips, he slowly reached his hands where the bugs collected the most, and scooped them up, pouring them into his mouth. He closed his eyes savoring the privileged moment. He added three mushrooms to the bug concoction in his mouth, twirling the mix with his tongue before continuing chewing. Merry's face went blank as his jaw dropped, and white washed over his face. He turned away, then glanced back to his dear friend.

"Pippin! That's disgusting!" Merry exclaimed in horror. The others looked to him, utterly grossed out as they heard some noise on the path behind them. Frodo glanced back, managing to get a peak through their hiding place, where a hoof struck the ground. Many horse droppings hit the ground, and when the horse was finished, the Nazgûl rode away, completely disregarding the tree. Frodo frowned.

"Well, that's odd…"

"What was all that about? There's someone following you, isn't there? Or some _thing?_" Merry asked. Pippin held his precious mushrooms close, in utter fear, licking a centipede's leg from his bottom lip.

"We have to get to the Prancing Po-…" Frodo stalled, leaning over everyone. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of Gandalf, who seemed to have been sitting there for quite some time, as he was smoking his pipe and looking really relaxed.

"I see you've found my private smoking den," he said, laughing merrily.

"Uh, weren't you off to see Saruman to see if he knew anything about this damn freaky ring?" Frodo asked, shaking his vest pocket for emphasis.

"Yes, but the stress was getting to me."

"Wait, what do you mean, 'smoking den'?" Pippin quizzed. "This is just a grove under a tree!"

"Yes, well, hum," he said, leaning forward and searching through the loose earth. "There's this… sort of a… mat, here, hidden under the ground. If I sort of pull it…" he grunted, lifting a net-looking thing from the ground. Dirt and rocks fell from it, and he lifted it until it reached the top and he tied it there with something he seemed to have previously installed. "Hot box!" he said, letting his arms drop, looking happy with himself. Frodo rolled his eyes.

"There is no time for that! There are things of importance to be seen to!"

"Yes, yes…" Gandalf muttered.

"Wait, let us go with you," the five Humans said.

"Yeah, I wanted to follow Frodo, but he's a total buzz kill. _Get off the road, get off the road!_ Damn it! All damn-business like, _we have things of importance to be seen to, la la laaa!_" Howie mocked. Vince and Alex looked to Howie.

"Dude, you, too?"

"Guys. Duh. We're near the _Shire_. We're supposed to be all slack and laid back, drink all day, smoke up and get fat satisfying our constant munchies." Gandalf sighed irritably and opened the 'door'.

"_You_ guys are the buzz kill…" he murmured as he got up. "If you boys are with me, then we must make haste to Isengard! There are things of importance to- well, you know," he stammered, not wanting to look like a buzz kill like Frodo.

"Oh, guys, by the way, I've been immortal for the last 80 years, and I just don't want to be anymore," Braden said out of nowhere. "I actually volunteered for this Middle-Earth thing because I feel an immortal dying is more suiting for a world like this. At any rate, if you see something deep for me to fall in, let me know."

"Braden, you are so random, I swear to god…" Howie said. "Anyways, the military guy already said that in that room."

"Just let me know if you see something gorge-like, alright?"

"Yeah, but why a gorge?" Mark asked. Braden pulled out a zippo, and opened it. A flame danced on it, and in his other hand he pulled out a bottle of alcohol.

"I was to be just like Denethor! I'm immune to fire, too, so I don't get burned by it. I was called "Pyro" for many years, but now it's time for me to die."

"Won't that hurt?" Mark said.

"I'm immune to fire, you dolt!" Vince found himself increasingly annoyed by Mark.

"Well, why do you want to be just like Denethor?" Mark asked.

"Look, don't question me, just… Christ! You know what, I just shouldn't have said anything. I should have just surprised the hell out of you all."

"I have no idea what you guys are talking about, but Frodo and Sam have Woodelves to gawk at and we have Isengard to ride to, so I suggest we get going," Gandalf said.

"Woodelves?" Sam said, lightening up. "Really?"

"Yes, they're leaving, never to return, bla, bla, bla," Gandalf waved off.

"Why?" Mark said.

"Because their time here is over. The time for Men is near."

"The time of the Elves is over? Why?"

"Be…because their time is over!"

"Yeah, but why?"

"Because it is!"

"This story is stupid!" Mark said, looking off into the distance.

"_You're_ stupid!" Howie said. "I hope the Nazgûl come and eat your eyeballs."

"Well, I hope that you choke on Frodo's finger!"

"What?" Frodo said.

"Let us take our leave, gentlemen…" Gandalf sighed.

**Section Three: Tolerance**

Much, much later, Aragorn was walking through the woods hastily, like something very important had to be done. He was cloaked, though the group behind him seemed to know exactly who he was and was persistent in following him.

"Oooh, Strider, you rock my socks!" Melanie said. "You know, I'm getting kind of cold!"

"We've been walking for what seems like _hours!_" Pippin said, totally annoyed with the fangirls.

"That's because it _has_ been hours, Pip!" Merry said.

"Well, you know."

"You're talking about being tired, what about me? My heel has been sore for hours!"

"Oh, are you still on about that?"

"Ever since I jumped onto the raft, that bloody splinter…"

"That's enough, Merry," Pippin said. He looked to his friend and raised his eyebrows. "It's over, now. It's okay."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Common! The splinter was only _this big!_" Pippin emphasized, making half a centimeter of distance between his finger and thumb. Merry blushed and looked away.

"Oh! That's right! Our feet are sore, Mr. Strider!" Sam said quickly. He licked his lips and looked at Frodo. "Frodo and I need to go take a break." Frodo frowned.

"But what do you mean, Sam? We would all need a break!" Sam looked around nervously.

"Of course, that's what I meant, Mr. Frodo," he said.

"No more breaks!" Aragorn said. "I'll have no more divergence until-"

"Aragorn, I'm cold!" Melanie persisted. Aragorn huffed irritably, threw off his cloak and gave it to Melanie.

"Keep the damn thing," he said, utterly frustrated. "Damn it," he snapped. He turned his head to the group behind him, totally annoyed. "Who lets all these fan girls in from the Other World all the time, anyways?" he exclaimed. He looked forward, sniffed the air in a Rangerly manner and walked onward with a new ambition in his eyes. "I'd like to find the one responsible."


	2. The Fellowship Of The Ring: Episode Two

Gandalf found himself standing before Saruman with his five new companions who were increasingly annoying. Saruman had just finished explaining that the Eye of Sauron sees all, but the only thing that came to the companion's heads were thoughts of perversion.

"Maybe Sauron is a Peeping Tom," Mark once said, "and his gaze is piercing through clouds, shadow, earth and walls of some young, fresh girls' bathing room right as we speak!" He looked at Saruman, totally pleased with himself and the idea he came up with, nodding his head approvingly. Saruman nodded his head at the pathetic Human and bowed it. "You know of what I speak, Saruman" Mark mocked. "The Eye of Naked Chicks!"

"That is so lame," Howie said.

"That is unlikely," Saruman said darkly. "He has matters of importance to see to!" At once, the five boys looked to Saruman as if suddenly aware of the evil deeds he has done. All but Vince was queued off. He had other thoughts in mind. Gandalf rolled his eyes and approached Saruman.

"You have seen this? How?"

"The…"

"Hey, Saru-dude, could you like, twirl me through the air?" Saruman looked to Howie like he wanted to sew his lips shut with his own veins.

"How dare you interrupt me, you insolent fool!" He looked back to Gandalf, utterly stressed out. "Why? Why should _we_ fear to use it?"

"Use what?" Gandalf said.

"Oh, um, right. The Palantíri."

"The Palantír is dangerous. Anyone could be watching. What if Sauron is using it now to watch us?"

"He's not, der! I put this dark, black cloth on it that I got at the Shop for Evil Wizards."

"Oh. I guess it's ok, then. Just don't let the Hobbits touch it," Gandalf said, patting the top of the Palantír through the dark cloth. He connected with it upon contact, seeing the Eye of Sauron watching them, and when the vision broke, he looked to Saruman as if he was becoming aware that he was on the wrong team, and that something was utterly wrong.

"There are Ringwraiths looking for the ring. They went to the Shire. They're going to kill the guy who carries the One Ring," Saruman said with disinterest.

"Frodo!" Gandalf called. He marched to the door, but Mark walked before him and interrupted.

"Hey, um, didn't Frodo already leave the Shire? This storyline is messed up! And anyways, I would _really_ like to be twirled through the air right now! So common, _please, please, please, please, please?_" Mark said. Saruman got so upset with him that he set four of the boys, Alex, Vince, Braden and Mark on fire and twirled them through the air. Thrilled, Braden grinned and called in glory:

"I'm just like Denethor! I'm just like Denethoooooor!" he cried as he faded to the heights of the room. Gandalf watched in horror and made for the doors, all which closed before he could near them. Gandalf glared at Saruman who stood and approached him with his staff. The boys landed one-by-one behind him, burning until Saruman stopped before Gandalf with a black look in his eye.

"Join me, rule by Sauron's side, it is the only way to survive in the world that will be," he said.

"Tell me, friend, when did Saruman the Wise reason for maggots?"

"_Roaches!_ God! You smoke the stuff and yet you can't get the terminology right."

"It's not the best stuff, but hand it over! You still owe me from the Wizard Brawl 1889 of the Third Age!"

"No! Because you owed me from the Beach Party Madness Of The Ainur 1769 of the Third Age and then the Rise Of The Wise party of year 1000 of the Third Age! And you kissed my crush, you traitor!"

"She never loved you!"

"Die!" Saruman finally cried, spinning Gandalf to the ceiling. Saruman sighed. "This is overdone. I'll torture you until you decide to join me. Then if that's not enough," he bellowed into the heights of the room, "I'll stick you on the roof to think things through in the cold, dark of night. And I'll make it rain."

"Do your worst!" Gandalf challenged. Howie walked back into the room with a coke and watched with his mouth gaping as Gandalf spun higher and higher into the endless ceiling, and the bodies of his four charred companions on the ground.

"Dude, they're roasted!"

"And if you do not agree to serve me, you shall be next!" Saruman belted over his shoulder. Howie raised his hands.

"Okay, dude, chill out, I was just observing the scene," he said smoothly, waving his hand tranquilly through the air as if to help express that the sight before him was poetic. He sipped his coke and looked up, listening to the cries of Gandalf. "That poor bastard," he said indifferently, nodding his head.

Later, Aragorn and co. found themselves East of Bree, at the southern end of the Weather Hills. Aragorn paused before the sight and put his hand over his heart.

"This was the great Tower of Amon Sûl."

"Just call it Weathertop like everyone else," Kim said. "Or at least learn to use names in common, _god!_" She had long, brown hair and dark brown eyes, and had far too much energy for a girl of 23 years of age. Aragorn raised his eyebrows and sighed.

"This tower was destroyed years ago, and once carried one of the Palantíri, the stones of seeing."

"Really? That's awesome!" Melany said.

"Yeah, thanks for the wonderful tour, can we please just keep heading to Rivendell?" said Kim.

"No one asked you to join me, you came on your own will. Anyways, we need to spend the night here."

"God, I'm sick of sleeping outside and roughing it all the time!"

"Melany," Angela said bluntly. "He's a ranger. He practically always lives outside. If you're going to be with him, you're _always_ going to be roughing it."

"Wasn't it the Palantír?" Adam said. Aragorn turned in a way that made everyone but the Hobbits swoon, and his hair fell in a cascade of wet strands of hair. Adam tried hard not to blush.

"Adding an _i_ makes it plural," Kim sighed impatiently. "If you're going to get along in this world, you might want to brush up on some of their languages," she said with her nose in the air.

"_But you just got mad at Aragorn for not using common!_" All the girls and Adam glared at her as she walked by and passed Aragorn, making her way to Weathertop.

Once there, Aragorn settled everyone there and intended to ditch them for some well-deserved free time, where he could be away from all those moonstruck girls. As they all laid themselves to rest, he approached the Hobbits and dropped a bag of swords.

"These are for you," he said.

"Oh, great, what does that mean?" Sam said.

"Personally, our stats are better for throwing rocks," Pippin said.

"I'm going to take a look around. Stay here," Aragorn said.

"Oh, I'll come with you!" one of the girls said.

"No, me too!" said another.

"Don't leave us here with the Hobbits!" The girls pleaded. Frodo looked to Sam and bowed his head down.

"We had Fangirls in the Shire, but they left because of our height," Frodo said softly.

"Or we'd lose them to our comforting lifestyle, once they got sick of us. Never paid us much attention afterwards," Sam nodded. "All they do is smoke and eat all day, and throw parties without giving away gifts."

"Nay!" Aragorn hushed. The Hobbits looked over only to see swarms of fangirls trying to be near Aragorn, who stood helplessly as they reached for him, trying to cling onto his clothing so as to not leave without them. "Ai, you cannot be controlled, so you may come," he sighed. "But you must be very quiet. Our presence here must go unnoticed."

"Very well, Aragorn, my sweet love," Melany said in a sigh. Many other girls suddenly called him their love, and Aragorn rolled his eyes as he walked past them and whirled his arms around to detach himself from many female hands. Frodo and the others looked from poor Aragorn and went to sleep.

Frodo woke up, his senses disturbed. Something was off. Something to be concerned about. When he turned to see what was going on, he noticed his Hobbit friends were talking giddily and loudly, hyper as ever. They were cooking a midnight snack over a fire, not even trying to be quiet and no effort was there to keep the fire small and inconspicuous. Frodo stood and stomped out the fire with his large, hairy foot.

"Put it out, you fools, put it out!" he exclaimed. "God damn it!"

"What are you doing?" Pippin asked.

"If that doesn't get the attention of the bloody Nazgûl, we're lucky!" Frodo said bitterly. He raised his head suddenly, still hearing tons of ruckus. "Damn, what's making all that noise?" he panicked. "We have to stop it! Hurry!" he cried in a hush. He looked over onto the rock layer above them, surprised to see a large circle of hippies singing love songs, one old man playing a guitar, tons of youths banging on drums and a huge bonfire in the middle of them all. One girl was really tripped out and was performing interpretive dance in the most bizarre way imaginable. Furious, Frodo suddenly reached for a large, spiked mace that should have been way too heavy for him to lift, and he started charging towards them like a madman! Luckily (for the hippies), Sam was thinking quickly and caught up to Frodo and held him back. Frodo kept waving his large mace around, his face contorted into an intense expression of anger and kicking around as Sam held him in place… a little too closely.

"No, Frodo, no!" Sam said desperately.

"Those hippies! Damn those hippies!"

"No, Frodo! Let the Nazgûl get them! Let the Nazgûl… get them…" he said as they both calmed down. "We've got to get out of here, Mr. Frodo… before it's too late!"

"Sam…" Frodo said, as a creepy look washed over his face.

"Yes…?" Sam said, holding Frodo closer.

"Hands! Hands!" Frodo said suddenly, jumping from Sam. "Watch the hands!" Sam nodded off innocently and they all turned their heads in surprise as the cry of the Nazgûl was heard from the bottom of Weathertop. They all leaned over, watching the Black Riders near them. Outraged, Frodo raised his mace and hesitated for the hippies, but Sam grabbed his arm and Frodo looked towards their escape, glanced back at the hippies, cursed something in the black tongue and ran off, throwing the mace behind him.


	3. The Fellowship Of The Ring:Episode Three

Aragorn returned to their camp, noticing a bunch of brutally slaughtered hippies on the ground. He knelt down, totally flabbergasted, to read the tracks. He noticed their strange clothing and finally the guitar and a bunch of knocked over drums.

"Bards? What are they doing all the way out here?"

"Those aren't bards," Adam said, kneeling beside him. "Those are hippies!" Aragorn looked over them, totally perplexed. He looked back to Adam.

"What are hippies?"

"Basically, a bunch of tree-hugging vegan mercenaries of Love and Peace."

"In times like this, war cannot be avoided."

"Yeah, go back to the sixties and say that. They still wouldn't listen."

"Gagh!" they heard suddenly. They looked over, noticing Frodo laying on the ground, holding his hand over a wound.

"Oh, Sam," Frodo said. Sam held Frodo's hand.

"If this is the end, Frodo… then there's something I need to tell you, before you go."

"What is it, Sam?"

"What has happened?" Aragorn said with urgency in his tone.

"Frodo got stabbed!" Merry said. He glared at Frodo. "This never would have happened if you didn't go charging towards the drum circle!"

"Those fucking hippies…" Frodo managed, "had… to kill…the hippies." Having said that, Frodo finally felt at liberty to pass out, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Aragorn looked next to Frodo, finding the dagger that stabbed him.

"This blade has a cold chill to it…" Aragorn said. The blade vanished like smoke and dust in the air and the Hobbits looked on in wonder. "Well, Frodo's screwed."

"Should I get some Athelas?" Sam offered.

"Nay, and how did you come by that name, anyways? It is not known in the north except by those who've wondered the wild."

"I don't know," Sam said defensively.

"And don't start using its other nicknames like you know all about it," Aragorn warned with a wave of his finger.

"I won't!" Sam said.

"Common, get the Pony. Let's make haste to Rivendell."

"Finally, God!" Kim said.

Saruman's hand loomed over the Palantír, summoning the Dark Lord of the Earth, or so Saruman called him. Howie stood there, arms crossed, watching Saruman do his thing. He started talking in the black tongue with Sauron, and suddenly a dark voice carried over the whole room in common.

"Build me an army," it said.

"Yes, my lord," Saruman said modestly.

"Make it really, really big."

"Yes, my lord."

"Like, so that not even all the men at Helm's Deep could take it."

"Yes, my lord."

"In fact, make it like a ten-to-one ratio against Helm's Deep."

"Yes, my lord."

"And send an Orc over with some of those roaches. Actually, set up a whole freaking huge farm and send me like, a third of all your weed, and you can have ten percent of my 1/3. It's not fair, but consider that I could like, kill you in three seconds once I have the ring."

"Yes, my lord, I shall do anything you wish," Saruman said, looking into the Great Eye in the Palantír. He raised an eyebrow as if to suggest something a little more secretive, leaning in. "_Anything_."

"I, uh, I don't swing that way," Sauron said awkwardly.

"Sorry."

"But thanks," he offered.

"Dude, that's gross!" Howie blurted out. Saruman turned around and made a claw in the air, glaring at Howie. Suddenly Howie clasped his throat and tried hard to breathe.

"You dare not speak to me in such a manner! I am your superior and your master!" he said darkly.

"Yeah, ok, dude! You don't have to go all Vader on me!" Saruman tightened the magical grip on Howie. "Ok, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Finish your work," Saruman said, turning away.

.';'.

Days later, upon the tower of Orthanc, Gandalf laid defeated, gazing upon the destructive work done over the ground and the sound of many Orcs trying to work together effectively. He sighed and looked to his dirty hands.

"Lembas?" a voice said. He turned to Braden, black from fire smoke and clothes falling apart from the fire, and Mark who laid beside him. He was charred to a crisp, but gasping for air in high-pitched breaths that were increasingly annoying.

"I'm not even going to ask how you got that," Gandalf said, taking the Lembas and biting into it. He sat up and tried to feed Mark some of it, but Mark closed his mouth and turned his head away, then started gaping for air again.

"Jesus Christ, this guy's good as dead!"

"I am regaining my strength, so I can whisper some charms for him, but that is all I can do, for now."

"Yeah, Mark already had three bites today. He needs a lot to heal, I guess."

"I summoned some Eagles earlier. We might stand a chance at getting away."

"Yeah, we could… wait a second!" Braden stood and peered over the edge. "It's not a gorge or the White City, but it will do just fine! I don't know why I didn't see it before!"

"See what?" Gandalf said. Braden pulled out his zippo and opened it, and Gandalf rolled his eyes and sighed. He picked up his staff and bonked him over the side of the head.

"Ow!"

"That's what you get for your stupidity!"

"Lem…bas…" Mark whined. The two looked to him, utterly annoyed.

"Then why did you refuse it before?" Braden snapped. They waited, but there was no answer, only what seemed to be an attempt at talking.

"Save your strength, master Mark, you shall need it," Gandalf said. Braden fed Mark a bite of Lembas and muttered under his breath as Gandalf whispered a healing charm on Mark. Mark's burns went from the third degree to the first, and his breaths came to him more easily.

"God, that's the best you can do? Why couldn't be become a Priest, or a Paladin?" Braden said.

"What?"

"Forget it. I'm going to go, now."

"Just wait, we have yet a chance to escape, you _fool!_"

"You're the fool! This is my chance to be like Denethor!"

"Oh, for…" Gandalf started. Mark struggled to sit up, and shook his head.

"I feel like shit," he said. "Give me a swig of that booze before you go."

"Fine," Braden said, handing it over. He uncapped the booze and took a swig, but coughed it up. It spewed all over the place, and Braden growled.

"What the fuck you wasting it for?" he snapped.

"Shit!" Mark said. "That's strong stuff!"

"Well, duh, I want to be really, really flammable!" Mark took another swig, but downed it this time. He shook his head and blinked the tears out of his eyes.

"Thanks, man."

"Yeah, right." Braden poured the bottle over the top of his head, quarked it, put it in his deteriorating coat pocket and set himself on fire. He closed the Zippo, put it in his other pocket and saluted Gandalf, then jumped off the edge. He started crying out in utter relief and joy, revering his accomplishment.

"What a fool," Gandalf said.

"I'm just like Denethor! I'm just like Denethor!" he cried. Suddenly Gandalf's eyes lit up, and he grabbed Mark by the collar (or what was left of it) and leapt over the other side of the tower, where an eagle went out of its way to swoop down and catch them. It swooped around the tower and effectively caught Braden on his back, and Gandalf quickly put out the flames with a blink of the eye and a hand gesture. Braden, still soaking from some remaining alcohol, blinked in disbelief.

"Oh, god damn it!" he exclaimed. "I just can't believe this!" He pulled out his zippo and set himself on fire again, then stood and waved at Gandalf. "Good for you! Get to safety! You earned it!" And with that, he stepped off the Great Eagle and fell in flames. He started crying out again, "I'm just like Denethor!" but before he could get through the phrase, the Eagle caught him on his back again, and Gandalf waved the fire away.

"It's useless," Gandalf advised.

"Stop that!"

"Remain here, you shall have other chances."

.';'.

Aragorn and the others stopped again because Bill the Pony decided to take another dump. Frodo started heaving for air, so Aragorn decided to let Sam look for some Athelas after all. The fangirls were trying to console Aragorn on his situation, but they only stressed him out with their praise.

"Is this it?" Sam said, holding a handful of some kind of plant.

"No!" Aragorn said. Sam raised his eyebrows and ran off again.

"Oh! I think I know it this time!" he said from a distance. Aragorn tightened the saddle on the pony, threw his cloak over his shoulder and went into the woods.

"That was the third time," he said. He went into the woods, and amazingly, the girls all left him alone. Sam hurried back to Aragorn, lucky to have caught him that far out in the woods.

"Is this it?" Sam said with excitement. Aragorn passed his eyes over it and back to Sam's face, looking very irritated.

"No!" he said, then glanced back to the weed, taking a closer look. "What the fuck?" he said, observing it. He moved a leaf with his index finger and stood back to watch it. "What the heck is that, even I don't know what that is. Go wait by your friend, you're useless!" Aragorn wondered off with his torch for about fifteen minutes before finding his prize. As Aragorn spotted some Athelas in a remote part of the wilderness, a blade suddenly appeared under his jaw. His senses alarmed, he spun around and brought his sword through the enemies' gut. He looked to his enemy, and his eyes widened.

"Arwen!" he cried. He looked her over as she moaned in pain. "Shit!" He pulled out the sword and threw it on the ground behind him, and held her shoulders.

"A ranger? Caught off his…" she managed, then fell to her knees.

"That was utterly stupid!" he said. She raised her eyes to him.

"I know."

"Are you hurt?" She glared at him, resisting an urge to smack him upside the head.

"Was that steel?" she asked calmly.

"Nay." She got onto her feet suddenly and threw her silky black locks over her shoulders.

"Then I'm cool!" Aragorn turned away and nodded his head. "And here I thought I was about to be reincarnated in the Halls of Mandos in Valinor."

"Fucking Elves…" he muttered.

"I'm going to approach Frodo in a glowy way to give him an idea of the devastating power I wield and then I'm going to take him to Rivendell to see my father."

"What? But I thought you guys glowed because you're so good and kind that your hearts glow."

"Yeah, that too."

"Ok, go for it." He nodded. Together, they returned and she approached him with such blinding light that Frodo couldn't even see her. She dismounted her horse and stood before him, whispering in Elvish. Knowing immediately who this was, the fangirls grew angry and jealous.

"Speak common, you Elvin lewd!" Kim exclaimed. Arwen was used to this treatment, so she merely ignored the girls. Frodo watched Arwen continue speaking, then Aragorn came and argued with her in Elvish. Few understood the dialect (some nerdy human girls knew their speech), and Arwen soon took off with Frodo on her horse.

"Great, she gets to ride out on a horse and we get to walk for a few more days," Melanie said. "Aragorn, I'm cold again." Aragorn sighed, removed his cloak and threw it over her head without turning to her, and walked off.

"I told you to keep this. Stop returning it to me."

"But your scent goes away after a while!" she protested. Aragorn stopped, let out a slow breath in an attempt to save himself from becoming violent, and walked on.

"Don't return it to me again, lest you wish me to keep it."

Arwen fiercely rode from the black riders, barely escaping them. She nearly halted when she saw the group she just left across the river she had to cross. Aragorn and all the fangirls only looked a little surprised to see her. She crossed the lake and just as the Nazgul reached the lake, they haulted, hissing at the water in their screechy way. Suddenly, the sound of an alarm went off, and all the nazgul looked to one of them, searching his robes. Finally, he withdrew a round clock with bells on it, still ringing. He hit the button and looked to the others.

"Um, okay guys, we get our fifteen. We can resume chase later!"

"But they're right there!"

"Yeaaaaah," he said, disinterested. "But there's water, and waves, and an Elf who could probably whisper a spell to make the water wash us away… and we hate fire and water, don't we?"

"Yeah, good point, Dwar."

"Hey, Ren, can I bum a smoke?"

"Sure, hold on a sec, Uvatha has my matches." They all murmured off into the woods, dismounting their horses at the edge of the river. Aragorn raised his eyebrows.

"Uh… that is odd behavior, even for the Black Riders."

"That's just messed up," a girl said.

"Well, how did you all get here?" Arwen asked.

"Oh, we were waling along and we found this teleportation glade stone thingy," a girl explained. "I guess it took us all the way out here."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Now is our chance to go!" Arwen said.

"We have to wait, Pippin went missing. You can go along," Aragorn said.

"Yeah, he said scram, bitch!" Melany said, removing Aragorn's cloak and handing it to him as she approached Arwen. Arwen looked to her in a bit of a shock.

"I am leaving," she said to Melany. "But you shall work on your manner."

"You shall not tell me what to do!"

"Melany, stop this!" Aragorn cried.

"Aragorn is mine, and he told you to scram, so get on your pretty horse and go!" Melany said in the coolest tone she could muster.

"Aragorn's heart belongs to me," Arwen said authoratively. "You cannot change that."

"He's mine, it's just a matter of time, she-Elf!"

"I've no time to argue like this. Frodo is in danger!" Arwen said as she turned around. "Aragorn is mine," she said over her shoulder.

"If you want him, come and claim him!" Melany said in the most commanding voice she could. Suddenly, Arwen turned around, eyes blazing and she summoned rain from the clouds above them. The clouds suddenly turned inward violently and went completely black. Lightning passed through layers of clouds, and suddenly an army of little raindrops of charging horses came in from the skies, totally pulverizing Melany. The raindrops felt rock-hard against her frail feminine human body, and she cried out in pain. Desperately, Melany got to her feet and tried to throw a few punches at Arwen, but the power of the charging rain horses kept hitting her until she was on her knees again, and eventually lying helplessly on the ground, cries of anguish filling the air. Arwen picked her up by the collar, but after a few straining breaths, Melany died.

"That's what I thought," Arwen said. She shot a look at all the other girls who took a sudden step back and gasped. She mounted her horse and rode off with Frodo.


End file.
